


The Gala - Day 1

by Riddlebird-puff (hobbitpuff)



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2018 [1]
Category: Batman (1966), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Batman 66, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Nygmobblepot Week 2018, nygmobblepotweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 02:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitpuff/pseuds/Riddlebird-puff
Summary: Nygmobblepot Week 2018Day 1: Pretend DatingPenguin makes a deal with the Riddler to bring the rogue as his plus one to a gala at Wayne Manor to steal a priceless painting.





	The Gala - Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This fic was written as part of the Nygmobblepotweek 2018 challenge. And so was written under a time restraint. Please forgive any grammar and structural errors you might find.
> 
>  
> 
> 60's Nygmobblepot has influenced my writing in other fics but this is the first time I have attempted to write something in this universe. However- era and character descriptions are kept vague so feel free to picture the Gotham version of these characters if you wish.

“And make sure to tell them to feed Daisy shrimp after the performance or she will not perform next time.” Cobblepot yelled through the crack of the door before shutting it.

 

“Daisy, huh? Do you have a new dancing girl, Ozzie? Should I be jealous?”

 

Oswald whipped around at the sound of the quiet voice. “Eddie. How did you get in here?”

 

The Riddler had made himself at home in the Penguin’s personal office. He sat across the throne chair with his feet crossed on the mahogany table in front of him.

 

“You could say I had a little bird on the inside.” The Riddler giggled and hand fed the penguin at his side.

 

The penguin, named Frankie, had been a gift from the Riddler himself and had always seemed to like the other rogue more than him. Eddie had even trained the bird to peck the Joker whenever they were in the same room.

 

Frankie ate his sardine and seemed to shrug apologetically at Oswald. The traitor.

 

Eddie patted Frankie on the head and the bird nuzzled his hand.

 

“What are you doing here, Riddler?”

 

The rogue stood and stretched. He had a new spandex suit Oswald noticed. But tried not to. Irrated he kept his eyes above the rogue’s shoulders.

 

“I heard you received an invitation to the Wayne Charity Gala. I need to be your plus one.”

 

“You want to be my date? How do you know I don't already have one?”

 

“I know you don't. Molly asked Chickadee and confirmed that you don't.”

 

Oswald would have to talk to Chickadee about consorting with the enemy. “I've gone straight, Eddie.”

 

Riddler laughed loudly. “Oh, Pengy, dear, you're more crooked than any of us. You just dress better.”

 

“I don't want any trouble, Eddie.” Oswald sighed. “What do you want with Bruce Wayne?”

 

“Perhaps I just want to spend an evening with my favorite fine feathered friend.”

 

“You would not go through all this trouble for just that.” Penguin pulled out an opulent envelope from the desk drawer. “Tell me your game, Riddler. Or I toss this envelope with the invitation into the fire and neither of us go to the Gala.” He held the envelope over the fireplace, Eddie did not need to know it was empty.

 

“You're bluffing.” Ed crossed his arms.

 

“I did not get where I am from bluffing.” Oswald lowered the envelope closer to the fire. “That's more your style, Riddler.”

 

“Fine.” Edward put his hands out. “Wayne recently acquired a painting I need for my collection. And this Gala is the perfect opportunity to nab it.”

 

“I didn't know you were a collector of fine arts, Eddie.” Oswald squaked. “The truth, how much is this priceless masterpiece worth?”

 

“It is in truth worthless. At least to anyone but someone with an interest in riddles like me. It was painted by an inmate in Innsmouth Asylum in 1902. Legend has it that the painter painted a riddle in the painting before killing himself. And it is said to drive all mad who tries to answer it. It has no name, but has become known as ‘The Last Riddle’. And it has been lost until now.”

 

“And you believe Mr. Wayne is in possession of this painting?”

 

“I know he is. A painting matching its description entered Gotham last week.” Riddler rubbed his hands together. “And was sent to Wayne Manor three days ago.”

 

“Mr. Wayne suddenly acquires a painting that isn't supposed to exist. A painting that would have great interest to a certain rogue who calls himself Riddler. Not only that but it happens to arrive right before a Charity Gala being held at Wayne Manor. Mr. Wayne is close friends with Commissioner Gordon, and there is likely to be GCPD presence at the gala. Have you thought this might be nothing more than a trap?”

 

“Of course it is.” Riddler grinned. “The game is no fun without a challenge.”

 

Oswald pinched the bridge of his nose. He always seemed to get a headache whenever he listened to the Riddler.

 

“I hear what you get out of this. But I'm a business man, Eddie. What do I get out of it?”

 

“Other than a date with yours truly?” Riddler held his arms out and bowed. “The date doesn’t have to end after the gala.” The rogue winked.

 

Oswald choked on his cigar. Had he been more obvious than he had thought, or was the Riddler just being his usual flirty self?

 

“I believe you overestimate your value, friend. In exchange I want your Sonic Bird Caller.”

 

“I can be flipped and broken but I never move. I can be closed, and opened, and sometimes removed. I am sealed by hands. What am I?”

 

Oswald probably should have questioned why Riddler agreed so easily.

 

“Deal.”

 

Penguin held his hand out to Riddler, Eddie took his hand and pulled him forward and kissed Oswald on both cheeks. Oswald broke away.

 

“What the hell was that?” He wiped his cheek.

 

“I have always held the belief that a deal sealed with a kiss is more binding. A handshake is so impersonal.”

 

“I will have my driver pick you up at seven this Saturday. Be ready or she will leave without you.”

 

“It's a date.”

 

“This is nothing but a deal between business associates, Riddler.”

 

“I do not care for roses. I prefer carnations.”

 

“The only way I would bring you flowers, Eddie, is if I were bringing them to your grave.”

 

“You old romantic bird.” Eddie took and kissed the back of his hand. “Au Revoir. Parting is such sweet sorrow that I will say goodnight until Saturday. Though I hope to say good morning Sunday morn.”

 

Penguin watched Riddler leaving, his eyes traveling down on their own free will. The way the spandex fit the rogue’s backside should have been against the law.

 

“One more thing, Riddler. I will have Chickadee bring a tuxedo to your hideout tomorrow afternoon. I must insist you wear no green. And absolutely no spandex.”

 

“What about where you can't see?”

 

“I could hardly care less for your underthings, Riddler. As I will not be seeing them.”

 

“But you'll know they're there.” Eddie winked.

 

Riddler bowed to Penguin and walked backwards out the door, closing it behind him.

 

Oswald opened the door and yelled out after him. “And no riddles!”

 

* * *

 

Oswald pulled Edward aside.

 

He had been pleasantly surprised that the usually flashy rogue had put on the black and white tuxedo Oswald had sent to his hideout. But he thought it was missing some color.

 

Oswald felt awkward as he took the small green flower from his pocket and placed it in Edward's lapel.

 

“My favorite. You remembered.” He fingered the small carnation. “And you even got it in my color. I'm touched, Ozzie. I didn't even bring you anything.”

 

“Don't think this means anything.” He felt like a sentimental old fool.

 

“Of course not. Everyone knows the Penguin’s heart is nothing but a frozen iceberg in his chest.”

 

Oswald knew what was said about his heart, or lack of one. But Eddie’s words still hurt him to hear.

 

“Come. Before they come to their senses and call the cops to arrest us.”

 

Eddie took Oswald’s arm.

 

This was a bad idea, he thought not for the first time that night, and certainly not for the last.

 

He told himself that he was crazy for trusting the Riddler to keep his promise not to cause too much trouble.

 

The man at the door was old, even to Oswald, but the old man had a toughness to him that not even age could diminish. Oswald’s mother would have called him a “tough old bird”. He took the invitation from Oswald and looked from Oswald to Edward. The old man frowned. Finally he stamped the paper and handed it back to Oswald.

 

“Commissioner Gordon is inside with more than a dozen officers. I would remember that before starting any problems, Mr. Cobblepot.” The butler released the paper to Oswald and bowed them in. “And know I will be watching both you and your friend personally.”

 

The old man did not attempt to hide the contempt in his voice. It hardly came as a surprise. The Penguin was a well recognized figure in Gotham after all, even in polite society. But whether he had recognized Edward as the Riddler or just disapproved of him in general was unknown.

 

Edward took Oswald’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Hopefully not all night, Jeeves. My Pengy here tends to get a little handsy when he's had too much of the bubbly.” He giggled. “The bubbles go straight to his head they do.”

 

Oswald practically dragged Edward past.

 

“What did you not understand about keeping a low profile, Eddie? Must you always be the center of attention?”

 

“People are going to look at us anyway, Ozzie. Might as well give them what they want.” Edward whispered in his ear. “It's all a part of the game.”

 

Oswald was acutely aware of Riddler pressed to his side, his arm around his waist. His lips at his ear. Penguin felt goosebumps much like fear.

 

May the Bat have mercy on his soul, he wanted the man at his side. And he had never been good at turning away from temptation. The Penguin always took what he wanted.

 

But to Riddler this was nothing but a game.

 

Oswald turned his head towards Edward but before either of them could do something foolish he took a champagne glass from a passing waiter and took a drink.

 

“So, what's the next move, Ed?”

 

“I have an inside feline- speak of the Cat.”

 

Selina Kyle slinked toward them, dressed all in black and to the nines. Oswald had always admired the Cat’s style, she was one of the few rogues who knew how to dress.

 

“Boys.” Catwoman purred. “I believe you have something that belongs to me, Riddle man.”

 

“The symbol of love made true and binding. I appear to be a most fragile thing, and still there is little that can break me. Riddle me this, what am I?”

 

“Hand over the diamond, Eddie.” Edward deposited a large diamond in Selina’s open palm. The rogue bit down on the gem and purred. “Delicious.” She held it to the light of the chandler above their heads and scratched the surface of the diamond with one clawed nail. “It appears to be the genuine thing. I will not ask how this came to be in your possession, Eddie. I care not.”

 

“When looking for buried gold this item helps a lot, as on this piece of paper is where X marks the spot.”

 

Selina pulled out a handheld tracker from where Oswald did not know. She tossed it to Edward. Eddie caught it and giggled looking at the screen.

 

“Shouldn't we be doing this somewhere not so quite in the open?” Oswald looked around but nobody seemed to be paying them any attention. Probably purposely.

 

“Oh, Pengy.” Selina hid the diamond somewhere on her person. “You always did worry too much. You play the game too safe.”

 

“You have to take a few risks to win the game, Ozzie.” Eddie kissed his cheek. “Sometimes you have to sacrifice a few pawns.”

 

Oswald broke away from Riddler. “Life is not a game, Riddler. People are more than chess pieces for you both to play with.”

 

Selina laughed. “Don't act as though you’ve never sacrificed a pawn or two, Penguin. Your hands are the dirtiest ones here.”

 

Oswald noticed Bruce Wayne walking in their direction.

 

“Does Bruce Wayne know he's your next pawn, Selina?”

 

“Bruce Wayne is mine, Pengy. You best remember that.” Selina hissed.

 

“Selina, darling.” Bruce stepped beside Selina and put his arm around her. “Mr. Cobblepot, glad to see you could make it.” He shook Oswald’s hand. “And you are-” He turned to Edward.

 

“Mr. Wayne, may I introduce my gentleman friend, Edward Nashton.” Oswald blushed, knowing how Wayne would take such a statement, how he was meant to take it.

 

He noted a flash of surprise on Wayne's face. “It is my pleasure, Mr. Nashton.” He shook Edward's hand. “If I may inquire, how did you and Mr. Cobblepot meet?”

 

“I perform at the Iceberg.” Eddie answered.

 

“Edward was my linguistic tutor.” Oswald said at same time.

 

“Which is it?” Wayne chuckled.

 

“I am often held but seldom touched, always wet but never rusts, often bites but rarely bit, to use me well you must have wit. What am I?” Edward posed to Wayne.

 

“Is that a riddle, Mr. Nashton? I'm afraid I'm not very good at brain twisters.” Wayne smiled good naturedly. “Is the answer, brain?”

 

“The answer is tongue, Mr. Wayne.” Eddie smirked. “And I have been told I use mine very well.”

 

Bruce Wayne laughed. “Indeed. You remind me of the Quizzler. Have you watched his game show, Mr. Nashton?”

 

“The Quizzler? That wannabe copycat would not know a good riddle if the Sphinx bit him in the ass-”

 

Oswald pulled Edward back. “Please pardon my dear friend, Mr. Wayne. Edward had a few glasses of champagne on the way here on an empty stomach.”

 

Selina laughed and pulled Bruce away. “Come Bruce. You promised me a dance.”

 

“Of course.” Wayne bowed to Oswald. “Thank you again for your generous donation, Mr. Cobblepot. Please enjoy yourselves. Although perhaps not too much.”

 

Bruce took Selina’s hand and followed her lead to the dance floor.

 

“That man is proof that one does not need intelligence to be rich.” Eddie took a drink from Oswald’s glass.

 

Oswald was not sure he agreed. He had a feeling that Bruce Wayne was more than he appeared to be.

 

“What's the next move?”

 

“I can be done alone, in twos, or in large groups. Anyone with two feet can join, but two left feet can make me difficult. I can be done in a line or a square. I can be fast or slow. I can lead or follow. Often considered romantic but I am first shared by father and daughter. What am I?”

 

“A dance?” Oswald asked. “You want to dance?”

 

“I thought you'd never ask.” Eddie grinned. He put down Oswald’s glass.

 

Edward grabbed Oswald’s hand and dragged him to a secluded section of the dance floor. Eddie stopped and took his other hand. Oswald was not sure which of them was meant to lead but then Edward lay his head in the crook of his neck.

 

Oswald was not much of a dancer, not knowing what to do with his hands it felt natural to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist. The action brought their bodies even closer together. Eddie mmm’d against his neck. Oswald felt feverish. He felt everyone must be watching.

 

“The way you wear your hat,

The way you sip your tea,

The memory of all that,

No, no, they can't take that away from me.”

 

Edward sung quietly. Oswald closed his eyes, no longer caring where they were.

 

“The way your smile just beams,

The way you sing off key,

The way you haunt my dreams,

No, no, they can't take that away from me.”

 

Oswald felt Eddie put his arms around his neck and the feeling of a mouth on his own did not surprise him as much as it perhaps should have. After he would think he should have pushed the obstinate rogue away but at the time he could not have even if he had thought to.

 

Eddie’s kiss was surprisingly gentle, the rogue kept it clean. His lips tasted faintly of mint. And Oswald wanted to taste more. He tongue licked at the opening between Eddie’s lips.

 

Edward giggled and pulled back. “We want to give them a show. But not too much of a show, Pengy dear.” The rogue kissed below his ear. “Maybe when we get out of here we can finish this.” He whispered in his ear.

 

The Riddler’s words woke Oswald up more effectively than a cold shower. It was a reminder that this was nothing but a game to Eddie. And he was only a game piece for the rogue to play with. Riddler might be interested in him at the moment but as soon as Oswald had served his purpose the rogue would grow bored with him and discard him like all the others.

 

“This partnership dissolves at the moment the painting comes into your hands.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Oswald knew the look of disappointment on Eddie’s face had nothing to do with him. The Riddler was just not accustomed to having his advances turned down.

 

The sooner this job was finished, the better.

 

* * *

 

 “I know what you did, Penguin.”

 

Oswald looked up from his desk. He had not seen the Riddler in the week since the “theft”. The rogue had traded his spandex leotard for his green suit instead at least.

 

He saw Eddie still wore the green flower Oswald had given him the night of the gala in his lapel. It was one of Ivy’s and would never wilt on its own.

 

“I am sure I have no idea what you mean, Riddler.”

 

“I think you do.” The Riddler shut the door. “I managed to trace the person who sold the painting to Wayne. The man signed his name as K.G Bird. A name very familiar to us both. Why Penguin? Was it your goal to make a fool of me? Is the painting even real? Or did you train one of your pet penguins to paint it?”

 

Oswald should have known Edward would figure it out.

 

“It actually came to my hands quite by chance. It was found in Jeremiah Arkham’s secret art vault in 1936 where it was stolen by the warden of the asylum, among other items. The former warden recently died, now an old man. His daughter in law, a woman who was once in my employ, contacted me knowing of my interest in Gotham antiques. I knew as soon as I heard the story behind the painting that it would be of interest to you.”

 

“But why sell it to Wayne? I thought we were friends, Ozzie.”

 

Oswald sighed. He had hoped Riddler of all people would understand.

 

“I sold the painting to Bruce Wayne knowing you would hear of it.”

 

“You couldn't know that.”

 

“Selina Kyle told you about the painting, did she not? Who do you think told her?”

 

“All that talk of games and you were playing both of us.” Eddie laughed unkindly. “How did you know I would come to you for your invitation?”

 

“I didn't.” Oswald answered truthfully. “I allowed Chickadee to see the invitation, and her gossiping nature did the rest.”

 

“But why, Ozzie? Why the game?”

 

“Because you could not know it came from me.” Oswald stood. “And I thought you would appreciate the game.”

 

“One thing I need to know, was the green carnation nothing but a play in your game? Or did you actually mean it?”

 

Eddie took off his hat and nervously played with it.

 

“I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Riddler.”

 

“Why a carnation? Why green?”

 

“You yourself said you preferred the flower. And green is obviously your favorite color.”

 

“And that is all? You are not aware of any implications behind your gift of a green carnation?”

 

“No. Should I be?”

 

“In 19th century Victorian men wore green carnations to show interest in homosexual activities.” Riddler giggled. “You really did not know?”

 

“I swear I did not know.”

 

Oswald was going to kill Ivy’s favorite plant!

 

“And you did all this just to get me to go out on a date with you.” Eddie grinned. “All you needed to do was ask, Ozzie.”

 

“Don't forget the fifteen-thousand I gained from selling the painting to Bruce Wayne in the first place.”

 

Ten-thousand after the donation that got him the invitation to the gala to begin with. But Riddler did not need to know that.

 

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Ozzie.” Eddie moved closer. “In Victorian times suitors used carnations to show romantic interests. A solid color meant yes.” Edward pulled a solid purple carnation from his pocket, another of Ivy’s creations. “Permit me?”

 

“We could never work, Eddie. I won't become just one of your pawns.”

 

“A game of chess cannot be won without its king.”

 

“And a game of chess cannot be played with two kings on the same side of the board.”

 

“I think we can both agree, I am the queen in this game.”

 

“I will not argue with your flair for the dramatics.”

 

“So what do you say, will you be my king, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot?”

 

The king might be the most valuable piece in chess but he was also the most vulnerable piece on the board. He had to have complete trust in his queen. And Oswald was not big on trusting others. He wondered if Eddie knew what he was asking.

 

But the game could not be won without some risk to the king.

 

“Perhaps you will be my queen, Eddie.”

 

“The queen is the most powerful piece on the board.”

 

Oswald took the solid purple carnation from Edward's hand and placed it in his own lapel.

 

“The answer is: yes, Edward Nigma.”

 

The Penguin dragged the Riddler to his level and kissed the rogue like a starving man.

 

“I should warn you, I'm wearing spandex underwear.” The Riddler winked.

 

“Not for long, Eddie.” Oswald led the rogue towards the bedroom behind his office.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It was a lot of fun to write something Nygmobblepot that was complete fluff without the angst of the Gotham counterparts.
> 
> I will definitely return to this universe.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Ps All riddles are google based except for the dancing one. I couldn't find anything online that fit what I needed so I created my own.
> 
> And the thing about green carnations is actually true. When I read about it I figured it was too perfect not to use in this fic.


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